I've been back in Israel for about 12 hours.
I put myself to bed just after 11pm, tired, weary, drawn-out, a little edgy, lonely, beat-up by the events of today's journey, which involved losing an expensive bottle of liquor, standing on the side of the road for over an hour, breaking into my room with a dirty pick-ax and feeding my emaciated friend Squeakers the Cat two bowls of Friskies.
I really thought I was gonna sleep for a long, long time.
A friend used my room for storage, and so my stuff is all buried under his. I didn't find a proper setting for the bed, and just used the ratty sheet I found on it, and some pillowcases from the community linen closet. For whatever reason, I didn't grab a sheet with which to cover myself, so at 1:10am I woke up, chilly and mosquito-bitten.
In a story in the book I've been reading, swarms of mosquitoes in Alaska actually cover people's limbs. In my trailer in the Judean Hills, one little bastard has his way with me until I leap up and smash him (or her). It's a nightly hunt I had forgotten about.
I am freaked out being here right now. I don't exactly feel like I am at home. My little room, in which I had been very comfortable last year, feels like a box, a closet, a tomb. The exposed lightbulb glares. I am a little freaked out.
I put myself to bed just after 11pm, tired, weary, drawn-out, a little edgy, lonely, beat-up by the events of today's journey, which involved losing an expensive bottle of liquor, standing on the side of the road for over an hour, breaking into my room with a dirty pick-ax and feeding my emaciated friend Squeakers the Cat two bowls of Friskies.
I really thought I was gonna sleep for a long, long time.
A friend used my room for storage, and so my stuff is all buried under his. I didn't find a proper setting for the bed, and just used the ratty sheet I found on it, and some pillowcases from the community linen closet. For whatever reason, I didn't grab a sheet with which to cover myself, so at 1:10am I woke up, chilly and mosquito-bitten.
In a story in the book I've been reading, swarms of mosquitoes in Alaska actually cover people's limbs. In my trailer in the Judean Hills, one little bastard has his way with me until I leap up and smash him (or her). It's a nightly hunt I had forgotten about.
I am freaked out being here right now. I don't exactly feel like I am at home. My little room, in which I had been very comfortable last year, feels like a box, a closet, a tomb. The exposed lightbulb glares. I am a little freaked out.
5 comments:
Good to learn you made it back alright.
It's weird saying goodbye to old friends, not knowing when, or, if, I'll see them again.
I suppose I'm getting used to it.
Reckon I'll check up on Jay Rosenberg soon. (Jay, if you're reading this, give us a sign of life.)
We'll always have Mustang Harry's.
And, Beast.
I don't imagine that in-demand diner would have been as good a time. Probably just a bunch of stuffy people pretending to enjoy themselves more than they actually were, in order to feel it was worth the wait.
Nah, we made out well, I say.
Now if you can just get with a really hot Madagascarian or Cambodian working girl...
hey :)
i just got back yesterday (wednesday) morning.. and i'm reading your blog as a jetlag detox...
maybe if u will be in jerusalem this week or next we can meet up?
Howdy! Nice to see the previous comment- yitz - I too am reading the blog as a jetlag detox, tho' not as much of a lag I imagine. As expected, the red-eye overnight flight from SF to Newark is horrible.
And Erik, life goes on! I am back on the east coast for less than 48 hours.
All my love to all of y'all.
-Jay Rosenberg
and then you step outside and see the jerusalem hills... it's all a matter of perspective.
cdb
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